Maiden Moon
by Microwaved-Spork
Summary: Zelda knew that the most important thing about being a princess was doing what was expected of her, like it or not. She has been arranged to marry The Hero of Time, but what of her girlfriend, Sheik? Yuri. Sheik is HER own perosn. oneshot. Plz R&R! :D


Hey, I'm back again!…with yet another story. I apologize to those who are patiently waiting for me to add chapters to my already existing stories. But don't worry, this is just a one-shot sort of thing that I wrote in about an hour.

Experimenting with the idea of Sheik being HER own character and having relations with Zelda.

Okay, I'm going back to working on Sheikah Conspiracy and Loved by the Dark

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I didn't ask for this.

I wished she would realize that.

I did not want to be a princess, nor a wife to a man I hardly knew.

But in such a world that we lived, the arrangement had been inevitable.

"Please…Sheik, don't be angry with me."

She didn't reply, but rather, continued staring up at the moon strung amongst the stars. I, too, remained silent. I had nothing else to say. That was the only thing I asked of her. Though, my wants and desires were prominently contrasted of each other.

I continued looking at what I could see of her seemingly picturesque face. Her cowl hung loosely about the slim bridge of her tan nose.

Impa once told me that virgin Sheikah women were to cover themselves from everybody as an act of modesty. I had seen Sheik's bare face several times- I had pulled the cowl from her angled jaw to place my lips over her protected ones many a night. How terribly I had wanted to tear the guise from her face…permanently. But such relations were looked down upon and unheard of, especially that of a princess and Sheikah.

Hyrule was not ready for such, nor would it ever be- for, just a few hours previous, my father had arranged my marriage with a certain Hero of Time. I suddenly wanted to throw myself in the icy black Zora River.

But I could never bring myself to do that to her.

Eventually breaking the silence and still gazing into the clear night sky, Sheik quietly stated,

"Luna is beautiful tonight."

"Yes, she is as resplendent as always…full-faced or concealed amongst the clouds."

I hadn't even glanced at the Sheikah's guardian, for I was referring to the Sheikah, herself.

She seemed to pick up on that notion and turned to me with a melancholy expression knitted in her blonde brow. The creases in her forehead softened and she stepped away from the balcony's rail. Reaching out with wrapped slender fingers, she removed a stray lock of hair from my face and braided it back into my hairpiece. Then she pulled away and regarded me fully as her crimson eyes locked with mine.

"Her cream skin pales more this winter evening."

"Then it must be out of fear," I replied.

"Fear of what? What does one that sits so high above others' heads have to fear?"

She was wrong. I didn't believe the moon sat proudly on a black clouded throne- she had hung herself there. She was miserable and lonely- such a deep depression that not all the stars of the sky could ever fill her emptiness. Her skin is pale from death and the dark indentions in her face were from all the sleepless nights and the never ending tears that had carved a path down her cheeks. She hung herself high, so that all beings could see her suffering. Not proudly, but desperately.

"She is scared of losing her love," I finally replied, thoughtfully.

At this, I stepped closer to her and curled the tips of my gloved fingers over the edge of the weathered cloth of the cowl. She tried to remain stoic and apathetic, but as I pulled the white fabric down and pressed my lips to hers, she began to respond to my touch.

It began as an urgent, needy kiss- as if it was going to be our last. Our arms wrapped around the other's waist as our two bodies pressed together, trying to be one and as close as we physically could. She let out a shuddered breath and pulled away from my lips.

I didn't fail to notice the wetness of her cheeks and found that I, too was crying. I had never seen her cry before, and half expected her tears to be red like her eyes. Red like the rubies of Death Mountain- beautiful jewels in the midst of a barren world.

Because that is what she is to me.

Gently, we brushed our lips together, barely touching the other pair. Sheik then put her lips to my ear and her cheek rested against mine- not knowing whose tears belonged to who anymore.

"I…Don't forget about me…I will always be here for you… I love you," She whispered.

"I love you, too. I won't let this come between us…_I can't live without you."_

We lied there on the balcony that night as we shared our souls and tears. We watched our warm breath intertwine on it's journey up to the maiden hanging in the black winter night.

And somewhere in the back of our minds, we knew then that our future together was damned.

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Awe, not a happy ending. 

This was inspired by Princess Isabella Maria of Parma's love letters written to her husband's sister…. I love European monarchies…so much incest. 3


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